‘I’m just trying to be charming’, KT Tunstall proclaims as her foot misses the loop pedal for the second time.
And that she is.
Her comedic antics set the audience at ease, drawing them into a sense of calm familiarity. Particularly endearing are her stories of previous visits to York, the trauma of trudging around the Jorvik centre at a young age and her enduring memory of its smell. Her anecdotes as she introduces each song are always funny and touching as she controls the atmosphere expertly. She quirkily confesses that she calls her infamous loop pedal the ‘wee bastard’ because giving it a derogatory name means it can take the blame.
On the basis that there’s no better place to start than at the beginning, Tunstall opens the show with ‘Invisible Empire’, the first track off her latest album ‘Invisible Empire // Crescent Moon’. Its gentle guitar melody fills the Barbican as she performs against the image of the Tucson desert, the creative birthplace of for her latest offering. The evening is dominated by new material which showcases her admirable vocal range and array of musical talents; talents which include several haunting whistling solos that see her sway to the gentle folky blues rhythms.
Amongst the less familiar songs are tracks from all her previous albums and even snippets of an EP only available at gigs. There is ‘Lost’ from the Electro-Pop album Tiger Suit (‘without the synth’) and of course the stars of her debut album ‘Eye to the Telescope’. She does ‘Black Horse & a Cherry Tree’ with a twist; halfway through an orange kazoo is whipped out and the song is morphed into a ‘Seven Nation Army’ mash up.
When you’re as skilled with a loop pedal as KT is, it actually makes sense to attempt a cover of an Atoms For Peace song. She mimics their mesmerising electronica in ‘Default’ by recording percussive effects on her guitar, a punctuating riff and then takes to the piano. It is breath-taking. The acoustics of the Barbican and the coordination of the lighting all combine to help mobilise each individual musical moment and hold the crowd in sway.
In ‘Feel it All’ Tunstall manages to channel the sound of the desert in terms of raw sentiment, a highlight alongside ‘Yellow Flower’ which see her bathed in a pool of yellow light. There is a maturity and sincerity to her more recent material and her evolution as an artist, interspersed with the playful jauntier sounds of her earlier albums.
As the concert draws to an end, one member of the crowd echoes everyone’s sentiments by shouting ‘don’t go!’. It is a joy to watch her multi-task – crafting each individual loop as she goes, moulding harmonies with herself, alternating between stamping on the floor and on a tambourine; all while singing pitch perfectly and playing guitar in a fine attempt at a one-woman band. Tunstall leaves to the recorded echoes of her own voice and a rapturous standing ovation.
Special mention should also go to opening act Billy Lockett, who managed to get half the room queuing after his set to buy his handmade EP. His awkward dishevelled lovability and his exceptional talent won him many a fan on the night.